


D is for Diet Coke

by missmichellebelle



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Diet Coke, M/M, Meet-Cute, Sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-09 06:02:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1971642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmichellebelle/pseuds/missmichellebelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thirteen.</p><p>This guy bought thirteen Diet Cokes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	D is for Diet Coke

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://www.shareacoke.com/#bottle).

There’s a soda machine in the same little nook as the ice machine, or so Darren finds out when he goes to fill up the ice bucket for their room. Nothing special about it, of course—soda machines are pretty standard, after all, and normally Darren wouldn’t take any notice of the presence of one.

What makes this particular one stand out isn’t the machine so much as the guy sitting next to it, surrounded by an abnormally large amount of Diet Coke bottles and looking particularly put out by it. He’s staring at the ground and all Darren can really see is the way he has hands gripped in his hair, body nearly folded over between his knees. He doesn’t seem to notice that Darren is even there, so Darren doesn’t feel weird pausing in his actual endeavor to count how many bottles of soda there actually are.

Thirteen.

This guy bought thirteen Diet Cokes.

Maybe he’s having a party in his room or something? It probably would have been smarter to get two litres, though. Oh well, it’s not Darren’s problem.

He expects the noise of the ice machine to alert the guy to his presence, and it does—he startles out of his shame and glances up at Darren like a deer in headlights, and stares for a few moments like Darren caught him doing something wrong.

Darren stares back, but it definitely has more to do with how fucking pretty this guy’s eyes are… Or how attractive he is in general, really. If Darren’s lips were a little looser, he might say something to embarrass himself, like ask this guy if he’s like… A model or something.

The eye contact clearly makes him uncomfortable, though, because he looks away and starts collecting his soda bottles. Darren can see the color on his cheeks, and how the way he’d been gripping his hair left it all disarrayed in the best way possible. It’s that combination that makes Darren’s decision for him.

Not that Darren has ever been known not to pounce on any opportunity he sees. Sometimes literally.

“Diet Coke fan?” Darren asks with a grin, ice bucket tucked under his arm, and the guy freezes, looking around himself as if he’s just now realizing how many bottles there actually are.

“Oh, uh… Yeah…” The guy mutters, almost off-handedly, and the pitch of his voice throws Darren a little off balance (metaphorically, although he does feel a little tippy in the physical sense, but Darren thinks that has more to do with the the three drinks he’s had).

Darren tries to figure out a way to make Diet Coke last longer as a topic of conversation, but he’s coming up empty. He doesn’t drink a lot of soda, unless it’s mixed with something harder, genuinely. Or he’s eating something specific. Like a burger.

“I don’t drink a lot of Diet Coke, personally. But you’re making me think I’m missing out on something pretty spectacular.” Darren’s grin turns from friendly to what he hopes is a little more flirty. Either it comes across, or the timing is just spot-on, but the guy nearly fumbles a few of the bottles as he straightens up to standing. It’s actually pretty impressive, the way he’s managing to hold all thirteen bottles at once.

“Diet Coke is amazing,” the guy insists, but it’s final sounding, like the conversation is now over and he’s going to head off to his room with his haul and Darren will go back to his with his ice. It would be creepy of him to follow after this guy, right? Totally creepy.

“I guess I should give it another shot, then.” Darren fumbles for his pocket and is so thankful when he finds a handful of change there. Thank _god_. Darren had nearly foregone wearing shoes to get ice, much less bringing his wallet.

The guy stills in surprise again, and Darren finds he kind of likes how easily he can throw him—like he isn’t used to someone paying this much attention to him or giving value to his opinions.

He stands there as Darren feeds his change into the machine, which Darren takes as a good sign. When the bottle tumbles down and Darren grabs it out, he notices that the wrapper says more than just “Coke” in the signature font.

“ _Share a Diet Coke with Chris_ ,” Darren reads out loud.

“What?” The guy asks, incredulously, and Darren twists the bottle to show him. “Are you _kidding_ me?”

“Uh, no… Why? Which ones did you get?” Darren wonders if there’s one with his name on it in that machine. That’d be pretty awesome.

“Everyone _but_ that one.” The guy’s voice has turned bitter and upset, and Darren wonders how this conversation suddenly turned so sour.

“I think there are more names in the world than fourteen…” Darren muses, and the guy sends him a completely unamused glare.

Huh. This is different. Darren can’t help but wonder why this guy is seemingly so upset about this, like, is he trying to collect one of every name or something, or—

“Wait, is _your_ name Chris?” Darren asks, confusion turning to amusement on his lips. The guy doesn’t answer, but his cheeks color again, which is enough of an answer for Darren. “Well, you know, it does say to share, so…” Darren holds it out, and the guy looks thrown again ( _yes_ ). “And I’m Darren.”

“But it’s yours,” the guy insists.

“Really? Pretty sure it has your name on it… Am I right?” Darren’s grin grows a little wider, and this time, the guy ducks his head when he blushes, and _dammit_ , that’s endearing.

“Yeah…” He admits, and Darren feels triumphant.

“Then it’s only right for you to have it.” Darren shakes it back and forth, and the guy—Chris—stares at it.

“My arms are kind of full,” Chris reminds him, and Darren laughs once.

“Right. Well then, I’ll just have to help you out, huh?” Darren tips his chin down flirtatiously, and Chris glances away. “Shall I escort you to your room?” He raises his eyebrows expectantly.

“What about your ice?”

Oh. Yeah. Darren glances down at the bucket, where the ice has already started to glisten from melting, and he makes a face at it before shrugging.

“My friends can last a few more minutes without ice.” Or the rest of the night, but Darren doesn’t want to frighten Chris off. If he plays his cards right in these next few minutes, maybe _the rest of the night_ will just happen.

Chris looks unsure for a moment, like he’s remembering that Darren is some stranger he ran into by the ice machine, and strangers can be all sorts of scary things—like axe murderers or cultists. But then he makes a motion with his head and starts walking, and Darren can only take it to mean that he should follow after.

“Do you want me to help carry any of those?” Darren asks, feeling like an asshole for not offering sooner.

“Honestly, I think if I get rid of even one, all of them will fall at this point,” Chris answers, and… That makes sense. Darren won’t argue with that kind of logic.

“You don’t happen to have a Darren in there, do you?”

Chris’s lips quirk at the side, and Darren wants to chase after the motion, to coax it out into something bigger and brighter. He can’t help but wonder what this guy looks like when he smiles.

“I don’t think so.” Except Chris sounds absolutely sure. “I have a Donna, though.”

“Well then, I guess tonight I’ll be Donna.”

If nothing else, at least Darren sees what Chris looks like when he laughs.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [Read & Reblog on Tumblr](http://missmichellebelle.tumblr.com/post/91172362164/d-is-for-diet-coke)


End file.
